


Hunting Song

by ohimonfire



Category: Redwall Series - Brian Jacques
Genre: RSC Application, Redwall Survivor Contest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:26:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26304853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohimonfire/pseuds/ohimonfire
Summary: Old One liked to sing, though he could no longer hear the notes lilting through the air.





	Hunting Song

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as an application for the 2020 Redwall Survivor Contest, which if you don’t know it is a fun little contest series that’s been running for (I think) over 20 years now. If you want more info on that, a quick google of redwall survivor forums should lead you to site, or just ask for a link to our discord I guess.   
> Anyway, this was for the category ‘Hunter’, and it actually won the vote and made it into the contest, which is the third contest I’ve had the opportunity to take part in as a writer. Unfortunately, it did get cancelled re: the world is a mess right now, but I’m proud of this piece either way. I don’t know if I’ll ever use this character again but I thought it was worth sharing.

Old One came down from the north, where the night was long and the world was empty. He came to the land of plenty when the snow fell and his bones ached. Long ago, before he was the Old One, the icy winds had merely gnawed at his body like a teething pup. He could run for days, passing through the drifts and along the edges of the glaciers with sure footpaws. Nothing escaped his relentless chase— not even the Great Horned Ones, with their towering legs and endless gait.   
  
But the Long Dark passed and passed again, and each time the days returned he felt his muscles stiffen, watched his prey dwindle into the shining snow more and more often. He knew what it meant. The cold would eat his bones eventually, as it did with all beasts. So he made his way south, to the verdant lands he now roamed. Here he prowled with menace, despite the unfamiliar terrain. The blind fear in their rolling eyes showed that the creatures who inhabited these forests had never run from a true predator, and hunts were often swift and uncomplicated.   
  
Before him laid the victim of such a hunt. He stalked it for hours, growing familiar with its sight and scent, but up close the long, scaly tail and large, flat teeth seemed unnatural. The strange beast lay thrashing in the dirt, pinned to the ground by a large wooden spear. He stepped toward the Fallen One and leaned over its twitching body, placing a heavy paw on the shaft of the spear. The thick weapon pierced clean through the beast’s throat. Its trembling paws clawed at the earth, tearing up chunks of dirt, then scrabbled at its neck, at the spear, at the earth again, spreading a dark and swirling stain. Old One lifted the spear with a grunt and, after threading a thin cord through minute holes in the shaft, slung it across his back.   
  
Blood flowed freely from the Fallen One’s throat now. As it hacked and spat it reached out and grabbed at Old One’s legs, eyes wide and pleading. Its mouth moved desperately, shaping a silent stream of unheard words. Old One stared intently at its mouth, but could not reshape the words it tried to form. After a moment, he decided that this task was futile. Instead, he crouched by its side, ignoring the dull throb in his legs, and minded the life as it slowly faded from the Fallen One’s eyes.   
  
Old One began to hum, one of the old songs he had sung in the north to the Great Horned Ones when the life drifted from their eyes as it did from the Fallen One’s now. He did not know if the song worked for these new creatures as it did for the old, if their life would catch the tune and spread through the vast and endless skies. But Old One liked to sing, though he could no longer hear the notes lilting through the air. He liked to imagine his song carrying life to the very end of the world.   
  
The hum echoed through his chest and flowed through his bones, washing away the familiar ache. Soon, the Fallen One ceased twitching, and Old One allowed his song to trail off. He stripped the garments from the limp body and, rising slowly, slung it across his shoulders. Today he would not go hungry. He had come down from the north, where the ice and snow had fangs. Now he walked a land of seasons, where even the weakest could thrive.


End file.
